


Winning A Battle

by OhFantasyWorld



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Knows, Canon Era, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season 1, Sharing a Bed, Translation, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 14:04:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14812787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhFantasyWorld/pseuds/OhFantasyWorld
Summary: “Arthur,” he said softly. ”There’s something wrong, isn’t there?”Arthur nodded slowly, still not looking at him.Merlin stepped closer to him.“Will you tell me? I’ve been worried,” he said earnestly. “I promise not to tell anyone.”Arthur bit his lip. Then he closed his eyes. “No.”





	Winning A Battle

**Author's Note:**

> Please read:  
> This was written in 2012, in a different language, when I was 18 years old. I am now 24 and because I am completely devoid of any new ideas, I decided to try and translate my old fics in English. It was NOT easy and while I did my best, I'm sure this text is full of errors, still. But this was a fun exercise and a good way to practice my English. I did change, add and removed some things, but this fic is essentially what it was like when I wrote it in 2012. So, yeah, full of cliches. But that's fanfiction for you.

 

Merlin was fairly sure that he knew Arthur better than anyone else, even though he had been in the prince’s life just over two years. He spent almost every day, every moment with Arthur: in his chambers, training field, hunting trips, battles… just about everywhere. Sometimes Merlin wasn’t so sure if Arthur really needed him as much as the prince required him to be present. Merlin couldn’t at times understand why he was required to stand behind Arthur during dull meetings. Or why he had to be present during every single training, handing Arthur different swords, like Arthur wasn’t perfectly capable of asking some other servant or steward to do it.

But during these more or less dull (and sometimes life-threatening) trips or events Merlin had learned to read Arthur like an open book. Even though the crown-prince wasn’t particularly known for talking about his emotions or deeper thoughts, Merlin was able to read his expressions and his tone of voice. Arthur might have looked like he was perfectly collected and composed, but Merlin often saw more under the surface. He doubted if anyone else, even people who had known Arthur his whole life, were capable of seeing such things; most likely not. Arthur had to appear as expressionless and emotionless in front of his father, which Merlin thought was a bit sad. Morgana was like a sister to Arthur, but they didn’t spend that much time together. Neither of them had probably ever seen Arthur angry, sad, depressed, happy or amused as much as Merlin had during his couple years as Arthur’s servant. Because of all this, Merlin regarded himself as Arthur’s closest friend. Privately, of course.  

But one night, when Arthur clattered into his chambers, slammed the door closed behind him and squeezed his hands to tight fists, Merlin didn’t have to do very deep analyze about Arthur’s state of mind.

Every sarcastic and witty greeting died on Merlin’s throat when he saw his master. He noticed immediately that Arthur was not just irritated or tired, but truly miserable and angry. Merlin let his grin fade and shut his mouth. This was obviously serious.

Arthur was soaking wet: water trickled down his armour and his blond hair was glued to his forehead. He walked farther in and left behind a trail of water and Merlin sighed as he knew he would have to dry it. Arthur was breathing heavily, which was strange as Arthur rarely got out of breath, even during hardest training.

When he lifted his gaze from the floor to his manservant, his eyes were full of sadness, exhaustion and pure anger. Merlin straightened himself: he had just been readying the prince’s bed for the night. He startled to see his master’s face and seeing all the emotions it displayed. Arthur was known to become irritated very easily and very often Merlin was the target of his anger. However, it was rarely truly serious and passing. But this time, Merlin saw actual rage in his master’s eyes. It wasn’t directed to him, Merlin knew instantly. He had never done anything so awful that would piss Arthur of that badly. Well, of course he had lied to Arthur for years, but Merlin doubted that Arthur’s mood had anything to do with that. At least, he hoped so.

The two of them stood there for a while in silence. Arthur determinedly stared the floor, and Merlin was looking his master, his worry growing each passing silent second.

“…my lord?” he said carefully, for once calling Arthur by his title. He recognized, that the situation might require it.

Arthur grimaced slightly, and he was looking anywhere else but his manservant. Merlin, however, noticed, as he always did: something was heavily weighting on Arthur. Something awful must have happened, something that had made Arthur look like that and forced his emotions on display. Terror rose up Merlin’s throat. Was someone ill? Or dead? Merlin dearly wished that this wasn’t the case. He was unable to come up with any other reason which would make Arthur look so very miserable.

Because he did look sorrowful and almost pitiful, and he was trembling from either cold or anger, or perhaps both. Merlin suddenly understood that if he wanted to be at least somewhat competent servant (and friend) he would have to do something to make Arthur feel even a bit better. If not mentally, at least physically.

He forced his legs to move and walked to Arthur. He started to take off his armour, like he always did. Arthur stayed silent and it looked like he was collecting himself. He was most likely afraid that he would lose all his control if he opened his mouth. Instead, he bit his lower lip and decisively did not look Merlin at all. He only turned and raised his arms as his manservant was taking of his heavy armour.

Merlin, for once, did not pressure Arthur to talk. He was itching to know what had happened, but he kept his mouth shut and did his work in silence. He knew that Arthur would tell him everything eventually, like he always did. Even though it wasn’t servants’ business to know about their masters’ affairs more than was necessary, Arthur told Merlin many things without regret. Sometimes he told Merlin things he seldom told anyone else.

Arthur’s clothes under the armour were wet as well. Merlin guided Arthur to sit to the closest chair and took his boots off. Then he bowed to open laces of Arthur’s tunic. He kept his gaze on the laces, and Arthur was staring dully some random spot. Merlin’s hand grazed Arthur’s collarbone. He was freezing cold.

”I shall draw you a bath,” Merlin said softly. He knew fully well that it wasn’t a servant’s job to decide what his master needed. But he also knew that he wouldn’t let Arthur suffer from cold and fall ill because of it. Besides, he was pretty sure that Arthur was unable to ask anything just then.

The Prince nodded weakly. He got up and walked behind the changing screen. His steps were very un-arthur-like: unsure and feeble. He got out of his wet clothes as Merlin was preparing his bath. He made sure that the bathtub had enough water and tried to make sure it was warm. He glanced to changing screen to make sure Arthur was facing the other way and then whispered a spell to warm the water up a bit more.

Soon Arthur was sitting in warm water. He had to take his time when he lowered into the bath as the warm water felt very hot against his cold skin. He was as numb as before and stayed silent, but Merlin was happy to see that prince relaxed and stopped trembling at least. Merlin washed Arthur’s hair and as he started to wash his body, Merlin noticed some new cuts on Arthur’s back. They didn’t look very bad nor very deep, but Merlin minded them as he gently wiped Arthur’s back with a cloth.

So, Arthur had been fighting. Had he lost? Merlin shook his head slightly at that thought. Arthur could be impossibly arrogant, but he still never reacted quite so dramatically if he lost, no matter how shameful his defeat was. Fear gripped Merlin even tighter now. He wished that Arthur would soon find his ability to speak, so he could tell Merlin, what on earth had happened to him.

Meantime Merlin could not do anything else but to do his job. He washed dirt, sweat and rainwater from his prince’s skin and noticed some fresh bruises here and there. Arthur washed his face himself, but his demeanor was un-arthur-like, so slow and sloppy. Watching that made Merlin almost feel scared.

Merlin fetched Arthur’s softest sleeping trousers from his wardrobe. After a moment of pondering, he also grabbed the softest and shabbiest shirt, that Arthur usually wore to bed during wintertime. Merlin wanted to make sure that Arthur wouldn’t be cold during the night.   

Merlin dressed Arthur, and they both stayed silent still. Merlin didn’t have the faintest idea what he would day. Arthur’s earlier rage had faded, and now he looked just sad. However, Merlin knew how Arthur’s mood could swing from 0 to 100 in a flash, so he stayed quiet. He didn’t want to take the risk and make Arthur feel even worse. Merlin knew that he wasn’t the most eloquent speaker and sometimes he said all the wrong things.

When Arthur had collapsed into his bed and Merlin had tucked him in (which was something he usually didn’t do: Arthur was, despite his occasional brattiness, an adult man) Arthur immediately turned his head away from Merlin. Merlin wondered if the prince didn’t want to see his servant to see him so desolate or if he simply just didn’t want to look Merlin. Neither of those options were particularly comforting. Merlin knew that no one, not even Crown Prince of Camelot, was made of stone, even if he did his best to look like he was.

It looked like Arthur had no intention to tell Merlin anything that night. Merlin did his best to not be hurt by this. He knew that Arthur must have had some good reason to his silence. Maybe he was just tired. Or ashamed.

Merlin started putting out the candles which he had just lighted a moment ago. He had imagined the night going a bit differently. As usual, Merlin would have helped Arthur out of his armour and then the prince would have sat down and ordered Merlin to do all sorts of things. Merlin would have done everything the prince asked, all the while complaining loudly, and Arthur would say something sarcastic. Then Arthur would have given in and let Merlin enjoy a cup of wine with him, so Merlin would sleep better (and be on time next morning to wake Arthur up, for once!) They would have sat, talk and tease each other until Arthur yawned. He would have climbed to his comfy bed; Merlin would have wished him good night and stepped out of the door just when Arthur yelled him to be on time next morning to wake Arthur up, _for once_!

 But the night was very much different than usual. Arthur did not speak, and he certainly wasn’t in a good mood. So, Merlin put of the one last candle which was right beside Arthur’s bed. As he blew out the last candle, he glanced Arthur and saw that his eyes were still open. As their eyes met, he opened his mouth, as to say something, but then he seemed to change his mind, shut his mouth and looked away. Merlin tried not to sigh. The room was now dark, darker than usual now that the moon was behind heavy rainclouds.

“Would you require something else, sire?” Merlin asked, like an obedient servant, which felt weird.

Arthur was quiet for a long time and Merlin was starting to think the prince had fallen asleep until he heard a soft “no”.

That left Merlin no other option than to walk out of the room.

“Good night, Ar-, um, sire,” he stammered. He didn’t expect to hear an answer to that, so he surprised when he heard Arthur call his name as he opened the door.

“Merlin?” it sounded like he was asking a question. Merlin turned around and saw that Arthur had lifted himself to half-sitting position.

”Yes?” he answered, trying to convey with his tone and expression that Arthur could tell him anything and he could trust him.

Arthur’s expression was something between awkward and dedicated. It looked so unnatural that Merlin took a pity of him.

”You don’t have to tell me anything, if you don’t feel like it right now,” he said, smiling. “It is probably not my business, anyway.”

Arthur closed his eyes and groaned: he appeared irritated. Not angry, or sad, just irritated and Merlin was inexplicably happy to see him acting like himself the first time during that evening.

” _Mer_ lin,” Arthur said, emphasizing the first syllable like he always did. “I just remembered that I do require something else from you.”

Merlin raised his brows. ”Really?”

Arthur was looking everything else but his servant yet again.

”Mmh. There’s a bottle of wine on the table,” he said.

”Uh, yeah. I brought it for you, I thought that you would… maybe you’d want to…” Merlin said and shrugged. He didn’t quite understand. “I should probably take it back. Or do you want to drink it?”

Arthur shook his head. “No. I want you to take a goblet, fill it with that wine and drink it.”

Okay. That was weird.

“Wh..?”

“Just obey, Merlin,” Arthur said calmly.

Merlin looked his master a long time and was trying to come up with any rational reason to Arthur’s order. He knew very well that Merlin’s alcohol resilience was very poor. He didn’t have to drink much at all until he was utterly drunk. Merlin was a bit light weight and not very used to alcohol, as both his mother and Gaius disapproved drinking and Merlin didn’t want to disappoint either of them.

But now he walked to the table and did what Arthur had ordered him to do: he filled the goblet and took it to his hand. He glanced at the prince, who was laying down again and looked him with his sad eyes.

”Sit down and drink. Just so would sleep better,” he said.

Merlin frowned. It wasn’t unusual that they drank half a cup of wine before they went to sleep. But the fairly big goblet in his hand was full of fairly strong wine and Arthur apparently wasn’t joining him. Besides, was it not Arthur who seemed to carry all the world’s sorrows on his shoulders? Wasn’t it Arthur who would more likely have trouble sleeping?

“Um. Okay. Are you sure you don’t want any?” Merlin asked, in case he had misunderstood something, or…

“I’m sure. Drink,” came the answer.

Merlin looked Arthur suspiciously one last time. Then he lifted the goblet to his lips and took a sip. The wine was strong and warmed Merlin’s guts immediately. He noticed that Arthur was smiling for the first time during the whole night. It was a sad smile, but it was better than no smile at all. Merlin took another sip.

”Just sit down and take your time, Merlin,” Arthur said quietly.

After just a few sips, Merlin started to feel effect of alcohol: his legs were shaking a bit and his head felt heavy. His head was filled with blurry and weird thoughts and he felt more and more tired after each sip. Soon, Merlin’s goblet was empty. He realized he had drank it way too fast, but the thought was very distant. He tried to place goblet back to table but it fell down, rolled away and hit the floor with a loud clang.

“Oh, Arthur, ’m sorry,” he mumbled and tried to pick the goblet up. He bent down, but as he did so, he fell down from his chair and found himself lying on the cold stone floor.

During that time Arthur’s expression changed from worried to amused and back. He shook his head a little.

“Merlin? Are you okay?” he asked.

Merlin somehow managed to drag himself up into sitting position, but that was as far as he was able to go. His head was spinning, and his eyes were half-open. He was cursing in his mind (and hoped later that he didn’t say any of it aloud) because that stupid, arrogant, not-at-all-handsome idiot had made him do this, made him that drunk. Merlin had only done it because… because…

”Heey, you’re not… why are you not…?” Merlin tried to finish his question, when Arthur was suddenly in front of him, looking worried and maybe just a little bit regretful.

Merlin grabbed his shoulder and took a fistful of Arthur’s nightshirt in his hand and he was gripping on like his life depended on it.

”Why I am not what, Merlin?” Arthur’s voice asked.

”Happy,” Merlin whispered, closing his eyes. Even though he was sitting, he felt dizzy. “Why are you not happy, Arthur?” he asked, slurring Arthur’s name. He sounded like he was blaming Arthur for not being in a good mood, but he couldn’t help it. Somewhere deep in his mind some distant voice screamed him to just shut up. But he ignored it. Alcohol in his body made him ignore it.

_Why is he not smiling anymore?_ Merlin was thinking. _He was smiling as I drank… should I drink more_ , yes, he should. _He is sad because I can’t drink more, he hates me. Gods, he looks sad. And it’s all my fault. I lie, I’m clumsy and I can’t drink alcohol._

And after all this nonsense, a new thought emerged:

_Arthur looks beautiful when he cries._

And Arthur truly was crying, which seemed to surprise Arthur himself as much as it surprised Merlin. Princes did not cry. It looked like Arthur simply couldn’t help it. He swiped his eyes quickly and tried to smile again.

”No, I’m not happy, but I promise you, I will be happy again tomorrow, okay?” he said and put his hand on Merlin’s nape. Merlin was on the verge of falling asleep and his head was hanging.

”Okay…” Merlin breathed, until his eyes fell shut and everything went black.

 

* * *

 

 

When he woke up, Merlin’s first thought was that his head hurt very, very much. The light, which was most likely coming from a window, did not help his aching head at all as it shone right to his face. Merlin squeezed his eyes shut, turned around and pulled a blanket over his head.

That was when he realized that he wasn’t in his own bed. The bed he was lying in was much more spacier, softer and it smelled different. On top of that, he realized that the little window in his own room could not let that much sunlight in (so much, damn it, did he not shut the curtains last night?). He knew he was in Arthur’s bed.

Okay, so _why_ was he in Arthur’s bed? Merlin tormented his sluggish brain for a moment and came to the fairly obvious conclusion: he had a hungover. Which means, he had drunk. And oh, yes, it all came back to Merlin. Arthur had asked, no, _ordered_ him to drink some very strong wine and Merlin had done as he was told. He felt a wave of burning hot shame: he had always been ashamed of his non-existent alcohol resilience and Arthur had witnessed it. Closely. Merlin groaned and hoped that he didn’t have any memories of the night at all.

The third thing he realized was that he was alone in Arthur’s bed. And judging by amount of sunlight, it was indeed, a late morning. He had neglected his duties.

Also, it really looked like Arthur had not slept in his bed at all during the night. Merlin covered his face with his hands and groaned again. He had no memory of how he had ended up in there, but it looked like he had somehow taken over the crown prince’s bed. Merlin could hardly believe that Arthur would have tucked Merlin in his own bed and just found another place for himself to sleep.

”Oh my gods…” he mumbled. He didn’t understand anything, but he was sure that he had done something wrong, again. He didn’t know what that ‘something’ was, but it had to be… something! A Prince did not just ask his servant to first drink himself into oblivion and then let him sleep in his royal bed! It just didn’t make sense. After all, Arthur had always complained day after day how Merlin should spend half of his time in stocks because of his disrespectful behaviour. Merlin had trouble at remembering that he should call Arthur “sire” or “my lord” or “your highness” and not by his name. Except in private of course. In private he called Arthur by some extremely creative (at least, he thought they were creative; Arthur didn’t seem to share his opinion) nicknames. He forgot to bow, knock on the door before entering and not to look Arthur in the eyes as they talked. He often forgot that they were not really friends, at least not aloud. They were not equal.

But, the truth is that Arthur seemed to forget it from time to time as well. Despite his threats, Merlin had only visited stocks couple times during his stay in Camelot and even then he had been released fairly soon. Arthur might roll his eyes and rub his temples every time Merlin forgot to address him by his title, but he never commented anything anymore, as he knew it was useless. Sometimes it felt like Arthur downright wanted Merlin to not respect him and call him names. He teased Merlin, horsed around with him and called him names, too. He did complain about Merlin’s inability not knock, but they both had stopped minding about lack of bowing. It didn’t feel necessary, or even right. And Merlin was sure that Arthur wanted him to look him into his eyes. He would search for his servant’s gaze if it dropped to the floor and sometimes he even snapped, “Merlin, you idiot, look at me when I’m talking to you!”.

But this, Arthur urging him to drink too much and then letting him sleep in his bed, was beyond his understanding. Yes, they were friends in some strange way, and yes, they were much more equal than other nobles and their servants. But this wasn’t normal, not even in their exceptional relationship.

Merlin’s head was aching way too much to think more, so he sat up and, after breathing deep for moment, pushed himself up from the bed. He stood there, rubbing his forehead. He decided to go to Gaius and ask some help for his hungover. Then, he would sit there and listen to Gaius reprimand him like he was a child. And then, he would go and find Arthur and ask a couple of questions. That felt like a good plan.

That was easier said than done, Merlin soon noticed. His boots were next to his bed (had he taken them of? Or had Arthur done it for him?) Putting his boots on revealed to be a bit of a challenge for Merlin’s trembling hands, but he got them on anyway. Then he got up, painstakingly slowly.

He noticed a cup of water on the table and without thinking, Merlin downed the whole cup down his parched throat. He wondered if Arthur had got someone else to bring him breakfast and dress him, or if he had been capable (and willing) to do those things himself. At least Merlin hoped that Arthur was out there dressed and fed.

Because Merlin did try to be a decent servant, despite what Arthur might say, he spent some time tidying up prince’s chambers before he left. He made his bed and straightened its pillows and blankets to look like he had never slept in it. After that he placed ornamental pillows and counterpane on the bed.

Finally he left and almost ran towards Gaius’ chambers. He kept his gaze on the ground and moved fast despite the dizziness it caused him. When he finally reached Gaius’ rooms, he first announced his need for hangover remedy.

“I’ll tell you everything soon,” he assured Gaius, who silently offered him a little bottle of medicine and watched Merlin drink it while looking him judgmentally.

The medicine was, as always, disgusting, but Merlin drank it gratefully. He couched couple times: he suspected that Gaius intentionally made hangover medicine taste like horse dung, so the person who needed it felt even more awful. Gaius very much disapproved drinking.

“I’m guessing you haven’t eaten anything?” Gaius noted calmly and indicated towards some leftovers on the table. Merlin realized that it was lunchtime. He had never in his life slept so long.

”Thanks, but I’ll wait until the remedy starts to affect,” Merlin mumbled and sat heavily on nearby stool. He dropped his head on his hands.

Gaius was sitting across him and watched Merlin. His eyebrow was up, all judgmental and worried, but he didn’t pressure Merlin. They sat there in silence for a moment, until Merlin opened his mouth.

”Yesterday was weird,” he started. Then a thought struck him as he looked up to his mentor. “You haven’t seen Arthur today, have you?”

”I saw him in the throne room this morning, but I didn’t stay, as he was speaking with the King at the moment. It looked like a private discussion,” Gaius answered. He frowned, worried. “Has something happened?”

Merlin shrugged.

“When Arthur came to his rooms yesterday evening, he was acting weird. He was sad, distant and somehow… like he trying to restrain his fury. It wasn’t because of me,” he said quickly as Gaius’ eyes widened and he opened his mouth. “I’m sure of it. He was scraped, and didn’t tell my what had happened. Then, as I was leaving, he made me drink his wine. I don’t understand why, but he seemed to cheer him up a bit, so I continued until I… fell asleep.” Merlin cleared his throat, ashamed. “Then, when I woke up a moment ago, I… found myself from Arthur’s bed and he’s nowhere to be seen. And now I’m here.” Merlin finished his story and looked Gaius, hoping he had some sort of theory or reason to offer for all this madness.

Gaius- expression did not change a bit, but his eyes were moving around the room as he considered what he had heard. “Strange, indeed…” he mumbled.

”Do you know, where Arthur was yesterday? I only heard that he went to some village located near Camelot’s border to do… something…” Merlin did remember that Arthur had told him about his mission, but he hadn’t listened him fully, and had not forgotten. Gaius was looking frustrated now.

”Yes, Merlin. He left to see a village which had been plagued by bandits for quite some time. The Prince and ten of the knights went there to defend the said village and took care of the bandits,” Gaius told him.

“Something must have happened there, something that upset Arthur,” Merlin said, frowning. “He was acting just normal before he left there. Actually, he was in unusually good mood.” He had teased Merlin, ordered him to do bunch of all sorts of errands and smirked as Merlin complained about that. He had spent the morning training, came to eat lunch and they had eaten together, all the while throwing snide remarks to each other. When Arthur had been fetched to meet with the King, who had asked him to come see him immediately. When Arthur had returned, he had ordered Merlin to ready Arthur’s horse and explained that he was to leave as soon as possible. Arthur and his knights were supposed to take care of some minor disturbance occurring near the border of the kingdom. 

“You can stay here,” Arthur had told him as he mounted his horse. “We’ll be back by nightfall, anyway. See that you have done everything I’ve ordered you to do by then”. Merlin had just rolled his eyes and Arthur gave him one last smirk as he had left.

Merlin had not been worried: Arthur was capable of dealing with some petty bandits. He took care of his duties and didn’t think about Arthur too much after his departure. Well, not more than he usually did. Arthur did feature his thoughts most of the time during any given day. 

Now Merlin wished that he would have gone with Arthur. He was worried and just about to bursting by curiosity.

“And he did not tell you anything at all?” Gaius asked, breaking the silence.

Merlin shook his head. ”He talked very little yesterday and I thought he didn’t want to talk about it… whatever it is,” he said. “So I figured I should not pressure him.”

Gaius nodded. ”That was a right thing to do, my boy,” he said. Then he leaned forward and looked Merlin sharply. “Go on as you have, Merlin. If the Prince does not want to open up to you, he doesn’t have to. But if he feels like talking, listen. I’m sure he’ll do it eventually. Before that, you will just have to try and help him.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. ”Well that’s what I’ve been doing all along! I’ve saved his life so many times that I can’t even…”

“No, Merlin,” Gaius interrupted. “I meant to be there for him. Emotionally.”

”It would be a lot easier if I just knew what is troubling him,” Merlin admitted quietly.

Gaius stood up from his stool and clapped Merlin’s shoulder as he passed him. “Everything will be fine,” he said gently.

When the royal physician went to sit behind his work desk, Merlin turned around to face him again. He had one more question.

”I still don’t understand why he had to get me drunk. Why’d he do that?”

Gaius lowered his face and Merlin was certain it was to cover his smile. Then Gaius schooled his face, leaving him looking only slightly amused.

”If you don’t realize it yourself, I will not explain it to you. Eat up, now,” he only said mysteriously and refused to tell Merlin anything else, no matter how much Merlin tried to coax him.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that day Merlin decided to find Arthur. He felt a lot better after he had got medication, couple cups of water and some food. He was not going to just leisure off rest of the day: he was perfectly capable to do his duties. He only had to find his master, so Arthur could tell him what to do. He also really wanted to just see Arthur and maybe talk with him.

Merlin intended to follow Gaius’ advice and decided that once he found Arthur, he would not ask him anything about last night. He only wanted to see if Arthur’s state of mind had improved at all. Merlin did hate to see him sad, so he hoped Arthur’s dark mood had been just temporary.

However, he could not find Arthur anywhere. He wasn’t on training yard, he was not on a meeting with King, nor had he returned to his room. Merlin checked some more improbable places, like the library and kitchens, but apparently Arthur had simply vanished. Arthur’s horse was still in stables and none of his knights were absent, so he couldn’t be very far away. Merlin considered checking the downtown, but he realized that it would take him whole day, as the Prince could be anywhere. Merlin was a bit worried, but there was nothing he could do. He sighed. He would think some chores to do: Arthur’s armour was in horrible state, as were his boots…

He almost bumped to Gwen, who carried a massive pile of laundry.

”Oh, sorry!” Gwen exclaimed and Merlin hurried to help her as she swayed a bit and almost dropped a few garments.

“It’s okay Gwen,” Merlin smiled at his friend. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. And I doubt you are able to see anything behind all that.”

Gwen’s face melted into a friendly smile. “Really? Is there something in your mind?” she asked. “I mean, I don’t mean to pry, but…”

Merlin chuckled. Gwen was quite adorable.

”Yeah, I’m a bit distracted,” he admitted.

”Right.” Gwen looked like she really wanted to say something, but for some reasons couldn’t bring herself to do it. Merlin raised his eyebrows, trying to prompt her to tell whatever was in her mind. Gwen blushed.

She never said anything, so Merlin just shrugged and decided to change the subject. “So, I’ve been looking Arthur all day. Have you seen him?”

Gwen’s eyes snapped up and she looked Merlin, clearly confused.

“No… I can’t say I have. I’d imagine you would be with him. As you usually are,” Gwen was talking weirdly, and she was acting all awkward. That itself wasn’t very new, but Merlin knew that whenever she acted like that, she was hiding something.

”Okay?” Merlin said slowly, feeling like he very much was missing something. “But right now, I don’t know where he is. I’ve searched the whole castle, and…”

”Argh!” Gwen said suddenly, loudly, and her whole demeanor changed in one second. She was now truly flustered, but very animate and excited, like she had been holding herself back. Merlin startled.

“Merlin, I’m sorry, but I have to ask… I’ve heard some rumours… they are probably silly and false, but you know how kitchen maids like to talk even if they don’t have any…”

Gwen babbled on and Merlin grew worried. “Gwen, what are you talking about? What rumours?” he asked.

She looked him and bit her lip. “Is it true that you spent the night in Prince’s bed?”

If Merlin had had something in his hand, he would have dropped it. Oh, no. Now was his turn to blush.

”W-where did you hear that?” Merlin asked, and he knew his voice and stammering gave everything away.

”Some servant went to fetch Prince Arthur’s breakfast today. Everyone wondered where you were, but I guess they thought you had overslept and wanted to help. After she’d come back, she told everyone that she had seen you, sleeping beside the Prince, in his bed. And, well, she told that you were… that you had been very close to him, nestling, like you two had… you know…” Gwen hid her face behind the laundry again. ”I wasn’t there, but I overheard Linette telling this to Allie,” she added, apologetic.

Merlin’s first thought was that _Arthur had been sleeping in his bed, next to me_. Very close, like the maid had described. Nestling, whatever _that_ meant.

He tried not to panic about the fact that half of the castle probably thought that he was now  a _companion_ of Prince of Camelot. _It wasn’t that uncommon for a servant to warm his master’s bed_ , he tried to calm himself. He could just tell everyone that Arthur had been cold or something. Which he probably had been, as he had travelled a long journey through heavy rainfall, so it wasn’t even a lie.

He could tell Gwen the truth, as they were good friends, but not right now. “Gwen, listen. I did sleep in Arthur’s chambers last night, but we only slept, that’s all. It’s a long and strange story. I can tell it to you later, if you wish, but now I have to go,” Merlin said and before Gwen had time to answer, he was already walking briskly past her.

His head was spinning. Where the hell was Arthur? Merlin began to feel more and more frustrated with the whole situation. He had been confused since he had woken up and became more confused every passing moment.

Something snapped in him. Gaius’ advices forgotten, he swore to find the stupid prat and drag answers out of him. I was fine that Arthur had been acting weird and it was completely okay if didn’t want to talk about it. But enough was enough! Merlin might be just a servant, but he did have some sort of pride and reputation among the other servants and his friends. People liked him. He did not want them to think that he was… ready to do whatever for his master.

The truth was that Merlin did not find the thought of waking up next to Arthur at all repulsive. On the contrary, he wouldn’t mind waking up in Arthur’s arms every morning. He did like Arthur, very much, despite everything. He was truly a good, great man, and he was beautiful, inside and out. He would be a great king one day. Merlin would give up his life in a heartbeat if it meant he could save Arthur’s. He would be lying if he said that he hadn’t fantasied about kissing Arthur, loving him and waking up next to him, warm and happy. Arthur was pretty much his whole life and sometimes their friendship felt like it could be something more. Merlin never dwelled on it too much, as he knew it was all doomed. Arthur had to marry someone, preferably soon, and that would just be a gigantic mess. Merlin was happy to be Arthur’s friend, his servant and secretly his personal magical bodyguard, but sometimes he let himself think they could be more.

That was why Merlin felt so awful about this, if he was honest with himself. Everyone thought his greatest wish had come true, and it simply hadn’t. He had awoken, alone, hurting and abandoned. The whole “nestling” had most likely been an accident, nothing else. Merlin was upset, not only because everyone thought he was Arthur’s lover, but also because he _wasn’t_. I didn’t make sense, but hardly anything did when it came to Merlin’s life.

It also felt awful that everyone seemed to think he was just a servant, performing his duty to his master and nothing more.

These thoughts and realizations made him slow his pace and his anger faded as fast as it had risen. Instead he just felt weary and tired. He rarely let himself think about his affections towards Arthur, as they only upset him. Now, he _was_ upset and very surprised to find that his legs had led him to Lady Morgana’s chamber’s door.

He could not call Morgana his friend, not really. But she was nice, and never acted like she was superior to him, even though she most definitely was, as she was the King’s Ward. Morgana was kind and smart, if not a bit intimidating at times and she had given him her time and advice a few times before. She was observant person and very straightforward. Maybe she could help him, one way or another. It also briefly occurred Merlin that Arthur might be hiding in her rooms. But if he was, Gwen would have seen him, and she had told she hadn’t. Merlin knew Gwen wouldn’t lie to him (and even if she had, he’d noticed. She was not a good liar.) But he raised his hand anyway and knocked. He wasn’t so sure why he did it, but he did.

“Come in!” Morgana called immediately.

Merlin stepped in and saw Morgana sitting in front of her dressing table. She turned around to face him as he entered. She looked as pretty as she always did, in her green dress and elaborate hairdo.

”Oh it’s you! I thought you were Gwen,” she said and smiled. “But nice to see you, too.”

Merlin did his best to smile back. “Likewise, my lady,” he said.

Morgana tilted her head, her gaze drilling. “So. Why are you here? I don’t think I gave Gwen too much to do so she would need your help?”

”Um, no,” Merlin said, feeling suddenly very awkward. “I was just wondering if you have seen Prince Arthur today?”

Morgana’s smile turned into a frown.

”No, I have not seen him. And come to think of it, it is quite strange. Usually I see Arthur many times during the day. He did not lunch with me and Uther today, either. I presume you have checked his rooms?” she asked. Merlin nodded.

“I’ve checked every place imaginable. I haven’t seen him at all today. That’s why I thought to ask you, my lady.”

Morgana raised her brows. ”You didn’t see him at morning?”

Merlin flushed. Apparently Morgana hadn’t heard the rumours, and he begged it would stay that way. “I overslept. Someone else brought him his breakfast. When I arrived in his rooms, he was already gone,” he explained. Morgana laughed.

“Oh, you, Merlin. If you were anyone else, Arthur would have fired you ages ago. In fact, before he met you, he had fired every single manservant after a week.”

Merlin was confused by this information, but Morgana only smirked.

”But alas, Merlin, I’m sorry but I haven’t seen him today. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen him since yesterday’s lunch.”

_So Morgana doesn’t know what happened during Arthur’s mission, either_ , Merlin thought, disappointed.

”Is something wrong?” Morgana asked. “You look troubled. Has Arthur been an idiot?”

Merlin wasn’t sure himself but shook his head.

”No, I think everything is fine. It is just weird that I haven’t seen him. Feels like he is hiding,” he said.

He startled when Morgana laughed brightly. She turned back around, looking him through her mirror. “Yes, well Arthur hardly ever does anything without you. But I think you should not worry too much: he has probably just slipped in some tavern or he’s sulking somewhere for whatever reason… alone…” Morgana’s expression went from happy to thoughtful and back in fascinating speed. Then, she schooled her features to innocently cheerful.

“Well, I’m sure he comes back for a night, at least,” she said briskly. “Of course it is possible that he has gone hunting…”

“He’s not. His weapons and all horses are in stables, I checked,” Merlin said quickly.

“That’s what I thought. He would have taken you with him, anyway.”

And there it was: Morgana’s knowing smile. She knew something that Merlin didn’t. He started to feel like he was in on some stupid play or joke.

”Mm, okay,” he said, ready to leave Morgana’s presence now. “I’m sorry I bothered you, my lady, Gwen must be here soon, I met her as I came here—”

“Merlin?” Morgana interrupted him. “I just remembered, when I mentioned hunting just now… Would you be so kind and do an errand for me? I’d ask Gwen but she’s terribly busy.”

It wasn’t like Merlin really had any choice, but he nodded anyway. “Of course. What do you need?”

“I need my dagger. I am to accompany Gwen tomorrow as she makes her annual trip to her mother’s grave. It should be a safe road and some guards will come with us, but one can never be too careful. So, if you could go to weapon storage and bring it to me? Oh, and polish it too?”

“Sure,” Merlin said. He had never heard Gwen making such trips to her mother’s grave. He didn’t even know where it was located. He had always thought Gwen’s mom was buried to Camelot’s graveyard, which wasn’t far at all. But he didn’t start to question Morgana. Instead, he slipped out of her rooms and headed towards the armoury.

He hadn’t got any new information from Morgana and that made him truly worried. On the other hand, he was getting fed up with playing this weird hide and seek with Arthur. It was getting ridiculous.

He arrived to armour and opened the heavy door with difficulty. It was a stuffy, dark room and full of different weapons and tools. There was no one there, which was uncommon. Usually when he visited the armour, it was rarely empty. Knights spent a lot of their time there, choosing and trying their weapons for trainings and fights, and their servants polished and sharpened them for their masters also in armour. Merlin shrugged. It didn’t matter and he wasn’t in the mood to try small talk with anyone.

Merlin walked to the wall which contained all daggers and smaller swords. He knew what Morgana’s dagger looked like and it should have stood out of others. However, he did not see Morgana’s silvery, decorative dagger anywhere. He stared the neat line of weapons for a long time and checked some other places too until he had to admit that Morgana’s dagger just wasn’t there. Had she mistaken? Now that Merlin really thought about, it felt weird that the lady’s fine possessions would be kept in dusty armour. Or had Morgana been referring to some other dagger? Merlin cursed quietly: why hadn’t he asked her?

"Merlin?"

It should have been a big relief to hear Arthur’s voice after worrying about him so much. Merlin turned around and saw Arthur coming on sight behind a corner. Instead of relief, Merlin had a sudden urge to take one of the daggers and throw it to him. Of course he didn’t do that, wouldn’t do that. But he wouldn’t throw himself at Arthur’s feet either. Certainly not.

”Oh, great. Just wonderful,” he muttered.

Arthur looked confused, which irritated and pleased Merlin in equal measure.

”Wh—”

”So you have been here the whole day?” Merlin snapped, because it did look like he had: Arthur’s clothes were dirty, like he had been sitting on the untidy floor.

Arthur rubbed his neck, trying and failing to look like his servant’s question did not bother him. He did not look at Merlin, but his feet. His cheeks were red.

”I have,” he admitted quietly. Merlin groaned.

”And why, if I may ask? I’ve been running all over the castle and asked people for you! I checked everywhere, and you are just…”

”I’m not a child,” Arthur grunted, which made Merlin almost laugh, as Arthur did sound like a petulant child just then.

”Just an adult prat, then,” Merlin said, feeling his anger to fade to irritation.

Arthur did not respond to that, like he was agreeing with Merlin, which made him feel uneasy. Arthur never failed to throw some degrading comment back to him. It was very hard to be mad to Arthur, as he was looking like he was holding back tears or something. Merlin did not want to push him over that limit and make him cry.

So he was still upset. Something truly awful must have happened. Merlin was done guessing and wanted to know. Even if Arthur wasn’t particularly willing to talk about it, Merlin couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Arthur,” he said softly. ”There’s something wrong, isn’t there?”

Arthur nodded slowly, still not looking at him.

Merlin stepped closer to him, carefully.

“Will you tell me? I’ve been worried,” he said earnestly. “I promise not to tell anyone.”

Arthur bit his lip. Then he closed his eyes. “No.”

”Okay,” Merlin said. ”But could you at least tell me, why I woke up from your bed with the biggest hangover ever?”

He watched as Arthur’s expression closed. Not good, he thought.

”Maybe because you drank way too much yesterday?” Arthur said scathingly. Merlin knew it was his way to avoid something: insult and purposely angering him.

“I drank too much, because you ordered me to,” Merlin said calmly, refusing to catch the bait. “I know you know I get drunk very easily.”

”Well, I did not pour it down your throat by force!” Arthur said, defensive, but Merlin saw his cheeks getting more and more red.

“No, you didn’t, but it was the only wish you had and I would have stood on my head if that’d helped you and made you feel better!” Merlin blurted. Maybe Arthur refused to talk honestly and bluntly, but he sure was way too tired to think about his words at that point. Arthur might as well hear this.

”Why?” Arthur asked quietly. ”It’s never been very important to you to do as I wish.”

“It was now!”

“Why are you so riled up?”

”Because I we, apparently, slept in the same bed!” Merlin said, avoiding the actual question. He might as well pretend to be more worried about this issue. “And now half of the castle thinks that I… I mean, that we…”

Arthur’s eyes widened.

”I swear,” he said very seriously, “that I did not mean that to happen.”

“Well what _did_ you mean to happen?” Merlin asked, almost yelling now.

”Are you seriously that daft that you can’t figure it out?” Arthur snapped, matching Merlin’s volume.

Merlin raised his brows. “Yes, Arthur, I suppose I am. Could you please do me a favour and enlighten me? Even though I am just a low, stupid, peasant servant to y—"

“I was sad, okay!” Arthur blurted and Merlin shut his mouth. “I was angry, furious and I felt absolutely horrible! I was soaking wet and all this because I won a battle I didn’t want to win.”

He was breathing heavily and leaned against a wall. Finally, he looked up to Merlin and continued.

”To think that I’d have to have lain there alone in my bed, in the darkness, and thought about it that… so… hmm.”

Merlin frowned.

”So… you didn’t want to be alone? You wanted someone to be there with you when you slept because you, um, had a difficult battle yesterday?” he asked, because it all sound very out of character. Arthur had had hard battled and fights before, but he had slept alone just fine. What had been so special about this particular battle? Merlin had understood that they had dealt with some bandits, that’s all.

”Merlin,” Arthur sighed, like he was the long suffering one. “I did not want _someone_ to sleep there with me. I wanted…”

His voice faded and he was suddenly looking some swords hanging on the wall, as if they there the most interesting things in the world.

”…you to stay,” he mumbled to the swords.

Merlin was just blinking there, rapidly, as he felt as confused as ever. After a while, he finally gathered himself up and asked the question which burned his mind.

”So you decided to get me drunk so you could get me… in your bed?” that sounded even more absurd as he said it aloud.

”No! No, no, no! You make it sound like… no!” Arthur said, waving his hands around and shaking his head over and over again. His eyes were almost popping out of his head.

But Merlin wasn’t done.

”But why to make me drink, first, then?” he asked. It didn’t make sense to him.

”I wanted you to stay,” Arthur repeated. “I will not say it again.”

”Right, but why I had to be unconscious? You could have just asked!” Merlin said.

Arthur looked at him. ”Really?” he asked, sounding doubtful.

Merlin nodded. ”As I said, I would have done pretty much anything to make you feel better”. He did not like to repeat his sentiments, either, but it seemed that Arthur had a hard time to comprehend things right then. “And I wouldn’t be so stupid as to turn down the offer to sleep in a royally soft, huge bed,” he said and grinned.

Arthur also smiled slightly. “It feels very stupid right now. I wasn’t in my right mind. I’m sorry.”

Merlin understood, at least some of it. Arthur was proud and he was supposed to be strong at all times. It wasn’t that simple to ask that sort of favour, even if Merlin was close to him. It wasn’t also very good to just order someone to sleep next to them. Arthur was a soldier and a prince: he was to handle everything alone, quietly.

“It’s been easier, too,” Merlin said, feeling lighter now. “I could’ve waken up as I usually do and sneak out before the maid came in and saw us together in bed.”

Arthur grimaced. ”Sorry,” he said. “As I said, I wasn’t in my right mind yesterday.”

”It’s okay,” Merlin said. It didn’t bother him as much anymore. Not now that he knew the reason and Arthur had apologized.

”I promise to fix this situation,” Arthur said firmly. He was using his princely voice which he hardly ever used when he was alone with Merlin.

”Thanks,” Merlin said.

Arthur nodded and thus ended the conversation.

”I have to go,” he announced. “Father has requested we dine together.”

"Will I come help you to get dressed?” Merlin asked. He was unusually eager to do his mundane tasks after such a weird day.

To his disappointment, Arthur shook his head.

”I won’t need you until night, but I do have some other chores for you,” he said, took a piece of paper from his pocket, gave it to Merlin and walked out from the armoury before Merlin had chance to comment.

As Merlin was scrubbing the floor in Arthur’s room, his mind wandered back to their earlier discussion. Arthur had wanted Merlin to comfort him. He had done it all because he really had been upset and he thought it would help if Merlin was sleeping, just sleeping next to him. Like merely his presence was enough to calm him. He wasn’t still very thrilled that Arthur had basically knocked him down before seeking that comfort. But Arthur wasn’t the most rational person when it came to handling his emotions.

Some doubtful voice in his head kept saying, that Arthur had been lying. Any warm body next to him could have comforted him, any presence could have been enough. Merlin just happened to be there, that’s all.

But why would Arthur say he wanted it to be Merlin, if he didn’t mean it? Merlin challenged the voice, silencing it.

He took the piece of paper Arthur had given to him.

_Merlin,_

_Clean my rooms (properly!), much the stables, polish my armour and my boots (the brown ones, next to my bed)_

_I require your services after supper._

_-A_

It was a short, clear letter, but Merlin stared the last sentence. Merlin always helped Arthur as he was getting ready to sleep. Never before had Arthur explicitly told Merlin to come and help him. He never had to, because it was something he had done since his very first night as Arthur’s servant.

As he was striding towards the stables, Morgana appeared in front of him. Gwen was there, too, walking couple steps behind her mistress.

Suddenly Merlin remembered why he had gone to the armoury at first place.

”My Lady, I—”

”Ah, Merlin!” Morgana interrupted. ”I meant to find you and tell you that… can you imagine how silly I was? My dagger was in my drawer, as it always is!” Morgana laughed exaggeratingly to her mistake. Merlin frowned.

”I tend to keep it near me, as one can never know if someone decides to intrude my chambers,” Morgana explained and Gwen was nodding emphatically behind her.

”Okay. I’m glad you found it, at any rate,” Merlin said. He eyed two women, whose smiles were just a bit too wide and bright to be completely innocent.

“Speaking of finding, did you find the Prince?” Gwen asked swiftly.

Merlin nodded. ”Yes, he was in ar—” he stopped. Then he looked at Morgana, his eyes widening.

“Splendid,” the lady said and then turned to her maid. “Come Gwen, we’re almost late from the dinner!” and the two of them were gone before Merlin could ask what the hell was happening around him.

About two hours later he was sitting on the floor in Arthur’s room, cleaning Arthur’s boot as best as he could. The boots in question were very dirty: Arthur had used them the day before during his mysterious trip. The boots were almost entirely in mud and-gods-know-what-else, and it didn’t come off no matter what Merlin tried. He glanced at the door and mumbled a spell. He looked as the dirt faded away and smiled. The boot looked like it was brand new.

The door slammed open and Merlin’s heart stopped as he startled. He turned around and saw Arthur closing the door behind him, looking him oddly.

”What’s wrong with you? Saw a ghost or something?” he asked.

”No, I was focusing on my work and you apparently decided to cause my premature death by scaring me,” Merlin said, putting his hand over his chest. “Really, Arthur, not funny.”

”Of course not,” Arthur with mocking remorse. “I can’t believe you are skittish on top of everything else. I would’ve thought you’ve hardened a bit while accompanying me to multiple battles.”

Arthur slumped to the nearest chair and rubbed his face. He looked distressed yet again. Merlin knew it had nothing to with his startling.  

”How was the dinner?” he asked, picking the other boot. He cursed in his mind, as he had not had time to magic that one clean as well. He could never get the other as clean as the first one.

”Magnificent,” Arthur answered and grimaced. “Father was not in good mood. Morgana was talking some nonsense and I was forced to be in middle of it. Also, Guinevere wouldn’t pour me more wine, she was pretending to be blind when I tried beckoning her to me.”

“Really?” Gwen was the best servant in Camelot. She did everything she was asked to do, and she did it well. It wasn’t like her to be deliberately disobedient.

“Yeah, she insisted that there was no more wine. Bullshit, I say, there’s always enough wine when father is dining.”

”Maybe Gwen was right doing so,” Merlin said, still trying to clean the boot, with no avail. “You shouldn’t drink too much, you know you have early training tomorrow.”

Arthur sighed and looked like he had the night before. Merlin abandoned the boot and stood up.

”I just… I’d like to forget everything. Just for a moment,” Arthur mumbled.

Oh no. ”Arthur?” Merlin said carefully, not knowing what else to say. He felt completely useless.

“I think I’ll just go to sleep, now,” Arthur said and stood up. Merlin hurried to help him with undressing. He let his fingers touch Arthur more than usual, hoping it would soothe him at least a little. He tried to smile, but Arthur’s face stayed expressionless. He did not look away, at least, which Merlin counted as a win.

Soon Arthur was in his nightwear and sat on the edge of his bed. Merlin kept himself busy: he folded Arthur’s clothes, closed the curtains and blew of candles. While he was doing all this, he was facing away from Arthur and thus didn’t see when the prince was taking a long look at his brown boots. Other one was clean, like it was new whereas the other was just as dirty and worn out as it had been. Arthur sighed.

Merlin heard it and turned around.

”Something wrong, sire?” as asked as he closed the last curtains and the room went dark.

Arthur didn’t answer but lied down on his bed and drew blanket right up to his chin. It reminded Merlin about a small child, rather than a grown-up prince. It was a desolate sight.

Merlin blew the last candle which was right next to Arthur’s bed, as he always did. He watched back of Arthur’s head and resisted the urge to pet his hair. He wanted to do something, anything, to make him feel better. He wanted Arthur to be himself again: arrogant, confident, glowing and dedicated.

He thought about leaving, as Arthur hadn’t said a word to him, but… he had to ask.

”Um, Arthur? I could… If you want to, I can…”

“Yes,” came the answer before he could finish. “Please.”

Merlin sat to the opposite edge of the bed and took of his boots. He heard how Arthur moved bit to his right, making room for him.

When Merlin lied down to the bed and tucked himself in, he was surprised when Arthur didn’t turn away or move farther to right. Instead, they there lying close, face to face to each other.

Suddenly Arthur moved his hand and it landed gently on Merlin’s neck, his thumb slowly stroking his cheek. Merlin stopped breathing and so many thoughts were running through his mind that he couldn’t grasp any of them. Not that he was really trying to.

“Listen,” Arthur whispered. ”I want you to know… you’re safe. You’ll be safe as long as I have any power to decide, as long as I’m still breathing, you are safe. Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course I understand,” Merlin said, caught of guard. He had never heard Arthur sound so sincere. “I’d trust my life in your hands. And I have.”

”No Merlin, you don’t understand,” Arthur mumbled, moving his hand to Merlin’s hair and grasping almost painfully. “Even though my father would find a reason to sentence you to death, I will not allow it. I would fight against him if I had to.”

Suddenly Merlin felt unbelievably cold all over his body. He froze, and his heart was hammering in his chest, trying to order Merlin to _run_. Arthur knew. Or did he? What else could he possibly talk about? Merlin was staring at him: Arthur’s expression was completely calm, focused and his eyes were soft and sad. He was not angry.

Oh, thank gods… Arthur was not angry.

”If you do trust me, if you trust your life to my hands, you don’t you act like it?” Arthur asked, and Merlin thought _scratch that, angry would have been better than this sad and betrayed question._

He felt a bit hysteric. He had imagined this situation about million times, but it never went like this.

”I’m sorry, I truly am,” he said, feeling panic truly rising up now. “I trust you, I do. I didn’t want… didn’t want to put you in that position where you have to choose your loyalty between the king and a servant. I know you’re not as… opinionated as him, but he’s your father and our king, and he would not hesitate to execute me, and if I died, there’d be no one to protect you, and I can’t…” Merlin stopped to breath and fight against the tears that were building behind his eyes.

“I think you as my friend,” Merlin confessed as Arthur stayed silent. “But I know you’re a crown prince, above all.”

”I am,” Arthur said then, still keeping his voice soft and gentle. “And I will be loyal to my father as long as he lives. It is my role and responsibility. His word is above mine, above anyone’s.”

He kept stroking Merlin’s hair as he spoke. Merlin didn’t dare to move.

“But,” he continued, “breaking my father’s rules behind his back is not anything new to me. As long as he doesn’t find out, of course. And, as I am a Crown Prince, I will be Camelot’s king one day and until then, I must try and figure out how I want to rule this kingdom. I have to make my own decisions and not just blindly follow my father’s example.”

Merlin could’ve easily started to weep right at that moment. He felt immense amount of pride and love for his prince and his wise words. Relief washed over him. He didn’t have to lie anymore. He didn’t have to keep his capability a secret from a man he respected the most. He didn’t have to fear.

“Thank, you,” he breathed.

“Shh,” Arthur said and wiped out the single tear that slipped under Merlin’s eyes.

“How long have you known?” Merlin asked.

Arthur frowned, thinking. ”Hmm. Well, I had my suspicions from the very start. I saw something special about you right away…”

_There’s something about you, Merlin. I can’t put my finger on it._

”…but I started to notice how your eyes turned gold every now and then. First I tried to convince myself that it was a trick of light or something but… weird, convenient thing s always happened. Lucky things, that usually saved my life. Or my father’s life. One time, when you thought I was sleeping in my tent while we were hunting, I saw you make figures out of fire. It was amazing.”

”Amazing? You think my magic is amazing?” Merlin repeated, unable to believe it.

“Mm. Merlin, you are an idiot, but not as useless as you make yourself look,” Arthur said and then went serious again. “But you have to be careful. More careful,” he added as Merlin opened his mouth to say that he had been careful.

”I’ll try. I’m so happy you are not angry. I don’t like lying, especially to you.”

”I was angry, at first,” Arthur confessed. “Not because you were doing something illegal. I knew from the start that you wouldn’t do anything to harm me, father or Camelot. You’ve proved it over and over again. I was just disappointed you didn’t think you could tell me. But, I can’t be angry anymore. I’d probably done the same, if I were you.”

Merlin smiled at him and Arthur smiled back. They were quiet for some time, just taking it all in.

Suddenly, a brand-new fear entered to Merlin’s mind.

“Has this been the reason for your… melancholy?” he asked.

Arthur shook his head.

”No. But it’s a part of it, in a way,” he said, sounding unsure.

Merlin frowned and lifted his head, supporting it with his arm.

”Tell me,” he whispered.

Arthur took a deep breath.

“Do you remember, when I told you that I was going to take care of some bandits in some little village on Camelot’s border?” he asked.

”Yes,” Merlin said, not seeing a point of telling that he hadn’t actually listened when Arthur told him this and heard it later from Gaius.

”It was a lie,” Arthur blurted. “in reality, my father had heard that a little group of people resided in said village. This group travels from place to place and they never stay in one location a long time. They healed sick people. They tended people who cannot be helped by using traditional medicine or remedies.” Arthur’s voice was wavering, and Merlin knew why.

“They used magic. They had kept themselves hidden since the Great Purge, but now someone had betrayed them. Some peasant came here yesterday afternoon, requesting a audience with the King. He told us about the group which had arrived to his village to heal the sick. He also told us how long they were going to stay in the village. The man was despicable, selling other people’s lives in hope of money. I would call this man a coward and betrayer without any hesitation.”

Merlin stayed silent. He was fairly sure where Arthur’s tale was going.

”However, as you can imagine, my father was furious that so many people had slipped from his Purge and payed the man handsomely. He called the knights immediately and ordered us to rode to the village right away.”

Arthur’s hand travelled from Merlin’s neck to his arm and finally closed around his fingers.

”We left, of course. The village wasn’t very far… near Ealdor, actually. When we arrived, we instantly realized that the peasant man’s story had been true: we saw a group of people, dressed in shabby traveling clothes. Men, women, children. They had set up a camp, where they took care of sick people.  I saw them doing magic and healing them. Villagers tried to offer them money and better clothes as reward, but they refused everything. I guess they did it only to get something to eat and were simply compassionate. They were good people.” Arthur closed his eyes.

”They had done nothing wrong. They only wanted to help. Knights were expecting orders from me, but I was just frozen. One of them even asked me about our plan of attack. I didn’t know what to answer. I didn’t want to harm innocent people, but we couldn’t return and tell father we hadn’t done anything, either.”

“In the end, that decision was taken from me. One of the sorcerers noticed us and panicked. Soon they all attacked us. It was a chaos. My men did not wait for my orders anymore, as they had to react to attack. Sorcerers tried to defend themselves, as well as the villagers who were also technically guilty of treason. They were not very skilled… I guess they had only ever studied healing magic, not anything that would be used in combat. I tried to yell to my knights not to harm anyone, not kill anyone, but it was futile. They had no choice, as sorcerers did not retreat. They didn’t run, even then they had a chance to do so. Most of the women and children ran, thank gods, but not all of them.”

“I tried, Merlin. I really did. I yelled my knights to stop, but if they had stopped, the sorcerers would have killed them. And as they were inexperienced in battling magic and my men are very trained and skilled warriors… Many of them targeted me especially, probably guessing who I am and I had… I had no choice…”

Arthur’s cheeks were visibly wet now.

“…when the fight was over, I saw people lying dead on the ground. Most of them sorcerers, some villagers which had gotten in between. All dead.”

”Those who were still alive were wailing in front of the bodies. I have never heard anything more awful. They didn’t have power or will to attack anymore, but they yelled curses at me. Not magic curses, just… words. And I deserved every single of them. I couldn’t apologize to anyone and it wouldn’t have mattered even if I had. Some of my men were injured too, but not severely.”

“I realized my father has done this for years. He has killed directly and indirectly hundreds of people and it doesn’t seem to bother him. And, well. I have never done anything about it, either, so that makes me just as guilty as him. But… what happened in village, it finally made me see. I have felt horrible ever since. I hadn’t been able to look father in the eyes. I hid in the armoury, because I was unable to even function. Every single person seemed to remind me of the people we had killed. I had to collect myself, so I could give my report to father without losing my nerve. And as I reported him that we had killed numerous innocent people, he was happy. He smiled. It made me nauseous. I almost snapped tat him during the dinner, but Morgana’s oblivious blabber helped me to keep myself collected. 

”And… then there’s you. I keep thinking that it might have as well been you, lying on the ground dead. You’ve saved my life many times and have always protected me. And you never get anything in return. I’m guessing you wouldn’t, even if I offered. It sickens me, to think that… it wouldn’t matter what you’ve done or haven’t done, my father would kill you no matter what. Just like he wanted us to kill those healers.”

Arthur sobbed. He had lost the battle against tears and they rolled down his face freely. He ducked his head down, like he was begging for forgiveness.

“After yesterday, I decided that I’m never going to kill innocents, ever again.”

And this was how he ended his tale. It felt almost like he had confessed his sins to a judge or a god and was now waiting for his judgment. He acted as though Merlin would punish him for his wrongdoings.

Merlin didn’t.

Instead, Merlin impulsively leaned in and kissed him.

It was a soft, light and a bit wet, as they both had been crying. Merlin felt only relieved and free and couldn’t bring himself to hate Arthur: how many people Merlin had killed, to keep Arthur and Camelot safe? He had lost count. He had essentially turned his back to his own, just to fulfill his destiny and keep people he loved and cherished safe.

They truly were two sides of the same coin. Both had done terrible things in name of loyalty and obligation and they both suffered the consequences. At least now, they could suffer together.

It didn’t take long until Arthur had recoiled and leaned in the second time, kissing him more intently now. They pressed against each other and Merlin smiled against Arthur’s lips, feeling like his heart was about to burst in his chest.

This, like revealing his magic, did not go as Merlin had previously thought. He had fantasied about this moment during his weakest moments and none of the scenarios featured heartfelt confessions about killing bunch of people. But he was glad it happened this way, right after they had both revealed their deepest thoughts to each other.

They parted, but were still so close that their noses bumped.

”Thank you,” Merlin whispered.

Arthur frowned, confused. “For what? Killing sorcerers or just being ignorant?”

“Shh,” Merlin said and kissed him quickly. Arthur’s tone had descended again to its previous misery and Merlin wasn’t having it.

”You’re a good person, Arthur. And you will be a great king one day,” he said, feeling sure of it.

”But I’m a lousy prince,” Arthur insisted.

“No, you’re not. You just don’t have power over your father. There’s nothing you can do about it.” Arthur knew this, of course, he had just said it himself, but Merlin felt it was important to repeat it.

“I just don’t understand,” Arthur said, looking totally lost and confused, as he looked down to their linked hands, “you’re a sorcerer. Uther kills people like you. You could have got rid of him easily, without doing anything. Just letting it happen. But instead you’ve saved him, haven’t you? Many times, too. Why do you do that?”

”Well,” Merlin said, feeling awful, but telling the truth anyway. Well, part of the truth. “I almost let him die once. But I realized that I wouldn’t be any better than him if I did. Also, I know you love him and would be heartbroken by his death. I couldn’t bear to look you in the eyes if I knew I was responsible for your sorrow.”

He looked Arthur know, his focused blue eyes.

”It’s my destiny to protect you and make sure that you’ll become king one day. My job is to keep the crown prince alive, not to assassinate the king,” he said.

Arthur chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in sort of fond way.

“You really are something, Merlin,” he muttered.

“And you, Arthur.”

Arthur leaned in again and this time they kissed longer. They embraced each other and Merlin felt warm, happy and excited. He couldn’t believe Arthur was touching him like that: gently, but purposefully. Warmth changed to hotness as Arthur opened his mouth and coaxed his tongue in Merlin’s. Merlin hands gripped Arthur’s tunic unconsciously, dragging him even closer.

He had felt this deep, unspoken devotion for his prince for so long. Now that he was free to demonstrate it like this… telling Arthur exactly how much he loved him, wanted him and preferably never be apart from him in any sense again… it felt like he was intoxicated. Unlike wine, this didn’t make him feel like he was lost; it made him feel safe, grounded, and so unbelievably happy.

They fell asleep like that, wrapped around each other. Neither of them dreamed and neither of them woke up before the rose and shone into the room.

Merlin didn’t even open his eyes when he lifted his hand and curtains closed. He felt Arthur smile against his hair.

“This is nicer way to wake up from your bed,” Merlin mumbled.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, by the way,” came the sleepy answer behind him.

“Don’t worry about that. Though it was pretty idiotic thing to do.”

“Merlin…”

“You can be a bit of a mystery, Arthur Pendragon.”

“I’m an open book,” Arthur said, clearly mimicking Merlin’s own words.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

Arthur kissed him.

Two sides of the same coin, indeed. Merlin almost heard Great Dragon laughing.


End file.
